"However," Long Bai narrowed his eyes, folding his arms behind his back, "how did you advance your Qi to the next stage? As far as I recall, I had instructed them to provide you with the Dragon Drifting Breathing Method. You should have only received the first stage of our sect's cultivation technique."

"The Ancestor," Xu Mo said quietly, lowering his gaze.

"Ahh... Of course!" Long Bai smacked his thigh, shaking his head in self-admonishment. "How could I be so foolish? I'm not the only one who could've granted you access to the cultivation techniques. The Ancestor must have interfered."

He laughed heartily. "Haha! Your comprehension speed is truly out of this world. Reaching the Liquid Qi stage in Qi Condensation using only the preliminary stages of our sect's technique? That should be impossible unless someone has reached the extreme peak of the third stage!"

"I... I think so." Xu Mo responded with careful hesitation, not entirely lying, but certainly not speaking the full truth either. He walked the fine line of ambiguity, playing word games in silence.

Before either of them could say more, the distant sound of hurried footsteps and agitated voices reached their ears. It seemed the sect's disciples had returned.

"I'll go see what's going on," Long Bai said, glancing toward the tent's entrance. "You stay here and rest."

Xu Mo gave a subtle nod and reclined against the bedding, grateful for the reprieve.

Long Bai stepped out from the makeshift tent, only to freeze in his tracks at the scene unfolding before him. His brows furrowed, and his expression darkened.

The disciples from the Verdant Sky Hall, who had gone in to "rescue" others from the secret realm, were returning—but not empty-handed. They carried stretchers laden with the seriously injured and, in some cases, the lifeless bodies of disciples. Those being carried bore the robes of various minor sects, their conditions ranging from unconscious to clearly dead.

Even more disturbing, Long Bai observed the behavior of the Verdant Sky Hall elders. Two elders—one male and one female—stood near a booth erected from wooden beams. A long line of disciples stretched before them, each one subjected to forceful searches. Bags were ripped from waists. Storage rings were confiscated. When nothing valuable was found, the unfortunate disciples were dragged aside and their bodies searched roughly, as if hidden treasures might be sewn into their robes.

On the sidelines, male disciples from the Verdant Sky Hall dragged a bruised cultivator from a lesser-known sect into a square wooden structure. The poor disciple had clearly refused to surrender something and had paid the price in bruises and blood.

Long Bai clenched his fists. A bitter taste rose in his throat. He and his sect master had long dreamed of a righteous cultivation world, one where rogue cultivators could pursue their Dao without oppression—yet such wolves in sheep's clothing as the Verdant Sky Hall continued to dominate under the guise of maintaining harmony.

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He moved to stand beside his sect's disciples, offering silent support. And yet, as a head elder, he felt powerless. Unable to stop the exploitation of his own disciples... all he could do was stand there and watch.

"You can go," one of the elder supervisors at the booth said flatly.

To everyone's surprise, the disciples of the Hidden Dragon Sect were allowed to pass without being searched. They glanced at each other in confusion, suspicion in their eyes.

The first one hesitated, but when he crossed the boundary unopposed, the others followed. Their steps quickened with relief as they exited the inspection area.

"Stop! Where do you think you're going?" barked the male elder, halting a disciple from a random sect who tried to follow after the Hidden Dragon Sect members.

"What?! I'm just going where they went!"

"You'll be searched like everyone else. Only after that will you be allowed to leave."

"What the hell?! Then why were they allowed to walk out without being searched? Did they bribe you or donate something valuable? Hey, everyone! Attention! Look at this!" the disciple shouted, pointing a trembling finger. "The Verdant Sky Hall is showing favoritism toward the Hidden Dragon Sect! They let them walk free while stripping us of our treasures!"

Gasps of disbelief rippled through the crowd.

"Huh?"

"What did he say?"

One by one, all eyes turned toward the booth. The Hidden Dragon Sect disciples, now halfway out of the inspection zone, shifted uncomfortably under the sudden spotlight.

At that moment, Long Bai stepped forward calmly, his appearance immediately restoring composure among his disciples. Though confusion lingered in their eyes, they respected his presence and said nothing.

"Esteemed Elder…" one disciple began, looking toward Long Bai for an explanation.

But Long Bai said nothing. Xu Mo had pleaded with him not to reveal anything. Time and again, the boy had emphasized: "Please, don't say it's because of me." Long Bai had agreed, promising to keep his mouth shut. Yet he had warned Xu Mo with a simple truth: Others may not be so silent.

Xu Mo had only nodded in reply, his eyes serene as he said, "If the world wills it, who can stop fame from following me?"

Back at the booth, the elders began releasing their cultivation auras to silence the agitated disciples. The heavy pressure of Golden Core Realm cultivators spread across the field, causing many to stumble back in fear.

It was important to note that the Verdant Sky Hall's primary enforcer—Elder Qin Jian—was a Soul Formation cultivator and had yet to emerge. He remained inside his tent, awaiting Long Chen's return.

Long Chen, meanwhile, had entered a separate spatial dimension. Only the will of the domain's owner could allow his return.

"How dare you question the decisions of Verdant Sky Hall!" snarled the evil-looking male elder, eyes flashing with malice. "Do you want us elders to pay a visit to each of your sects?"

His voice dripped with threat. He looked ready to unleash his wrath on any disciple who dared speak against them again. The surrounding crowd trembled, their resistance dying under the oppressive force of power.

What many of the disciples failed to realize was that every decade, some ambitious sects tested the waters, believing they had grown strong enough to challenge the Verdant Sky Hall. Yet without fail, those sects vanished from the cultivation map within days of declaring their rebellion.

The elders who had come as guardians of their disciples were now nervously glancing at the tent where Elder Qin Jian rested, afraid that the noise outside might disturb him. The memory of his earlier display of power still haunted them.

Long Bai gave a small signal, urging the disciples of the Hidden Dragon Sect to follow him back toward their tents. Inside, Xu Mo lay on the bed initially prepared for Long Bai. However, as the True Successor of the Hidden Dragon Sect, Xu Mo was entitled to such privileges now.

The tent itself was massive, divided into private sections by thick, opaque curtains. Thus, the returning disciples did not catch a glimpse of Xu Mo, and he remained undisturbed, lying in silence.

Long Bai paused at the entrance of his section, looking over his shoulder at the subdued crowd outside. Inwardly, he sighed. A storm was brewing in the cultivation world—and at the eye of that storm, whether he liked it or not, stood the silent figure resting behind the curtain.

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